


It's Gotta Be You

by honeyflow



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: AU If You Squint, Jumin being casually perfect, M/M, Pretty much just all fluff!, The Choi twins have a healthy relationship and also love each other, There's a sleepover if you squint, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, au kinda, spoilers for 707's name if anyone cares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 11:31:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17527919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyflow/pseuds/honeyflow
Summary: Jumin and Saeran are crazy for each other.





	It's Gotta Be You

**Author's Note:**

> A commission for a friend. Hope you enjoy!!
> 
> Feel free to hit me up on twitter @HON3YFLOW

Jumin Han prided himself on being punctual, on sticking to his schedule and but Saeran Choi made for the most captivating distraction, smiling from beneath soft, dark lashes as Jumin’s palm cradled his cheek, Saeran humming contentedly as their lips touched.  
At times it puzzles Jumin, perplexes him how his reality could shift from waking alone to this hazy, dreamy utopia, body and mind warmed and enriched by the person resting comfortably beside him.  
Unlikely a couple as they were, Jumin Han and Saeran Choi were a perfect fit.

Long gone were the days of feeling guilty for waking his beloved before sunrise, as Saeran had since grown accustomed to the early mornings, often rising before Jumin’s own alarm to prepare breakfast in the kitchenette or tend to the cat. Cooking wasn’t exactly Saeran’s forte (there had been more than a few burnt dishes in the past), so his meals were often simple, but something for Jumin to wake to was infinitely better than nothing at all. 

Sleep addling his bones, he finds his movements to rise from the bed halted when fingers slip between his own, a silent gesture of want as steely grey orbs peer at him from the space beside him. Saeran chuckles, pressing a kiss to Jumin’s knuckles.  
“Don’t give me the puppy eyes, Minmin,” he says, “I’ll be back in a minute.”  
Jumin’s hand instead wraps around Saeran’s wrist, finding a firm grip to pull him back into their one-thousand thread count sea.  
“Humor me,” he murmurs, and the rumble of his morning voice melts Saeran’s heart. 

Mint green flicker to the flip clock at their bedside. “You’re gonna go to work hungry,” he chides.  
Jumin regards the clock carefully. “So be it,” he tugs again, and this time Saeran follows; his lithe, wiry frame tumbling atop his.

Despite his protests, Saeran tangles his limbs with lover’s own, looping his arms around Jumin’s gorgeously slim waist to draw him closer. Mischief his middle name, Saeran tucks his head beneath Jumin’s chin and hums contentedly. “You’re right, Minmin,” he purrs. “Five more minutes,” he says resolutely.  
At this, Jumin stiffens, the prospect of actually being late teasing at the corners of his mind. In all his years at the company, even when he was young and merely shadowing his father, he’d always arrived on time, if not the slightest bit early. There were projects to approve and partnerships to mull over, all important things that he couldn’t merely leave waiting. 

As if gifted with a sixth sense for them attention isn’t entirely on him, Saeran sneaks a nibble onto Jumin’s collar. “Turn your work brain off or I’ll bite you for real.”  
Jumin never thought the day would come where he missed Saeran’s whining, but here he was, a half a mind to abide by the request.  
“Don’t be an ass,” Jumin huffs, kissing his crown.  
Saeran nibbles at his collar again but does not bite, content to remain in Jumin’s arms until he simply couldn’t.

 

*

 

Saeyoung sipped peacefully at his cola, brows arched in interest as he watched Zen and his brother go back and forth over the debate he started. Truly, he was an agent of chaos.  
Zen had gone full-on actor mode, insistent in his speech as he was in his gesticulation, hands wild and lively as he prodded the younger Choi twin for answers. “But, Jumin’s ugly _sometimes_ , right? I can’t believe I picked up a digital camera to essentially take his profile pictures. And I didn’t even get paid!”

“I admire your tenacity, but you’ll be at this forever. My darling Jumin doesn’t even have morning breath,” Saeran said, tone casual if not the slightest bit self-satisfied.

Zen paused, mouth hanging open in mild disbelief. “I seriously feel like you’re yanking my dick, Saeran.”

Saeyoung failed to repress a snort, abruptly detaching himself from his straw before his drink headed noseward, wiping at his flushed face with the back of his sleeve. “Warn me before you say something so crude, Zenny! I could’ve _died._ ”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass; it’s hard to compete with unscented breath,” Saeran said patronizingly, patting the last dregs of amusement out of his brother’s system. As the eldest of the pair finally calmed down, Saeran redirected their attention to Zen’s earlier statement.  
“Did you bring your camera with you? I’d love to see your pictures.”

Suspicion pulled at Zen’s features, but he fetched his overnight bag in search of the device regardless. “You mean you’d love to see Jumin while he’s away.”

Saeran pouted, eagerly snatching up the lens as it was passed to him. “He’ll be in Busan all weekend! Let me have my fun.”  
The slim, black device warbled happily as it came to life, the screen displaying a reel of Zen’s recent captures after just a few button presses. Saeran fell silent as he scrolled through them, save for the odd giggle or coo at those he particularly liked.  
Over his shoulder, Saeyoung hummed in confusion, urging him to double back to one of the pictures taken.  
“This one?” Saeran asked for clarification.  
“Yeah, yeah, this one! How come he sneezes like a runway model?”

Zen puzzled. “You think that’s a sneeze?”  
The camera beeped as Saeran zoomed in. “Yeeeep,” he said, popping the ‘p’. “That’s a sneeze.”  
Of all the things to look sexy doing, Jumin Han transformed the common sneeze – one’s natural instinct to expel dust from the sinuses – into a near-perfect pose: delicate hands poising a tissue to his face, nose scrunched ever so slightly, broad shoulders still beautiful even as they hitch slightly toward his ears.  
Zen got one (1) picture of Jumin sneezing, but the bastard had the audacity to still look absolutely mesmerizing.  
“I can completely believe his breath is unscented,” he said after a moment.

“I told you so,” Saeran grinned. “He’s really just like that, y’know? But whenever I sneeze, I look like a homeless goth. Granted, I dress like one, but y’know. Details.”

 

*

 

Saeran chewed at the web of his hand as phone continued to ring, steadily wearing a groove into the floor as he paced about the room. Sure, calling your boyfriend’s place of work six times in a week was a little unprofessional, but it was lunchtime (again), and he’d be remiss if he didn’t ensure his beloved Jumin was eating well.

The receiver clicked. Saeran’s brows inched upwards. “Jumin Han speaking.”  
“Minmin! I usually get the receptionist or Assistant Kang. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Jumin indulged in a private smile. Saeran’s voice tremored with boundless energy, no doubt because of him. Little gestures of love such as these carried him through his day.  
“An early lunch, believe it or not. A client withdrew from a project on grounds of a better offer from elsewhere and freed me up for the next say, twenty minutes. How are you faring, love? Have you eaten?”

A gentle coo sounded down the line.  
“I was gonna ask you that, lovely. Elizabeth and I had lunch earlier. Wish you were here to join us, but aside from that, I can’t complain.” Saeran fiddled with the zipper of his jacket. “Might take one of the cars for a spin sometime relatively soonish.”

“Hopefully not before I’ve got to go back to the office?”  
Saeran sounded almost scandalized. “Wouldn’t dream of it, silly. How’s work going, though? You said a client dropped out?”

There was a groan and a pop through the receiver, most likely the sound of Jumin stretching in his seat.

“Pardon me,” Jumin says, straightening himself out. “And they did. Something about another company offering a quote ‘more desirable pay’ in addition to a shortened project timeline. Where in the hell they’ll be receiving the resources to build three storefronts in under six months is a mystery, but it’s the path they’ve chosen to take.”

Saeran hummed in acknowledgement, his pacing having worn him out and brought him to rest cross-legged on the floor. “So they’ll be paying less up front, but they’ll owe their workers more for the lengthier hours. Is that what you’re driving at?”

“Mmhmm.” Jumin answered around his salad.  
“And that wasn’t a major loss for you?” 

“I got to talk to you, didn’t I?” 

Saeran grinned, stroking Elizabeth as she wandered beneath his fingers. “Careful, Jumin, I might fall in love with you.”

The leather of Jumin’s chair groaned as he allowed himself to relax. “ _Might?_ So, what would you call us then? Good friends? Roommates?”

“Partners? Cat parents? No, no, these aren’t right…” Saeran tipped his face up to the ceiling, expression thoughtful. “I want something cute and zesty.”

Jumin pounced. “Like you?”

Saeran hid blushing face behind his sleeve. “If we weren’t soulmates I would think you’re out to kill me.”

“Not today, no.” Jumin spared a glance at the clock and sighed. “I must unfortunately get back to work.”

“Boo. Don’t overwork yourself. I love you.”  
“I love you too.” Jumin paused. “Soulmate.”

 

*

 

The things Jumin kept to himself entirely, free from the eyes of those at work and within the RFA, were very few in number. He shared many things about himself with the people he knew: his age, his height, his utter lack of driving skills.  
Even his darling Elizabeth the 3rd was known by just about anyone he encountered; short of shoving his phone in strangers’ faces, he was quite the proud cat mom.

But those were pictures, taken for him but with some intent to share.

He never took pictures in moments like these. Moments where Saeran was draped across his lap, phone in his limp grip, breathing steadily as he drooled on Jumin’s knee. Moments where he’d been caught singing in the shower, flushed red from root to tip, but kept singing anyway.

Jumin liked to keep these to himself, photographs of his mind’s eye tucked into his breast pocket, his sleeve, behind his ear, ready to allow himself the pleasure of indulging in something far sweeter than mountainous paperwork hell bent on making his carpal tunnel flare up. When meetings ran long and the moon has swapped places with the sun, even if his is late returning home, Jumin knows he has pieces of it with him, tokens of promise to help him hold out a little bit longer.

Being with Saeran kept him rich in love and in comfort, and after a long, hard day of absolutely nothing, he got to loosen his tie, set down his bag, and rest his chin on the shoulder of the person cooking him dinner in an oversized t-shirt and mismatched socks.

The smell of grilled peppers freshly-steamed rice waft into his nose, warming his tired, tired body from the inside out, gentle hands working in tandem to melt the knots from his shoulders. The wine at the table isn’t exactly what he’d pick after the day he’s had, but it pairs beautifully with the stir fry and makes him far more receptive to Saeran’s magic touch.

Jumin says he doesn’t have to pamper him. Says he doesn’t have to cook dinner and that it’s fine if he takes a day for himself. Saeran knows, and he’s taken days for himself at the behest and gentle pushiness of his partner. He appreciates the gesture, and he knows that Jumin wants only the best for him, but the best days for Saeran are the ones where he can help him unwind.

“It’s enough that you’re here,” Jumin told him once, weakly attempting to bat away his worried hands before giving in. Saeran remembers dimming the lights low and running him a bath that night, even staying to help Jumin wash his hair.

When he crawled into bed that night, the mental exhaustion had gone from overwhelming to a dull throb, and Saeran was more than willing to lend an ear while Jumin spoke go-nowhere thoughts into the moonlit softness of their bedroom, voice petering into nothingness as he finally, finally slept.

**Author's Note:**

> The camera Zen bought was a Canon PowerShot G7 X Mark II, priced around $650USD. I never once mention this in the story but I figured it was worth mentioning as that’s the once I used when converting currencies.
> 
> Expect more Juran in the future, if not as a commission then just because I want to! I unexpectedly fell in love with this pairing so I guess this is my new home ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Many many thanks again to my friend, Lyon, for commissioning me!!


End file.
